


moonflowers and morning glories

by laikaspeaks



Category: Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon), Tangled (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Child Abuse, F/F, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, PTSD, Slow Burn, alternate universe - centaurs, the knight/princess vibes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:48:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 16,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27378979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laikaspeaks/pseuds/laikaspeaks
Summary: Cassandra never quite met anyone's expectations. She was just too brash, too loud, too tall. Too much. All gawky limbs and rough edges and not much else. Until Cass finds a kindred spirit in the last place she expected: the fabled lost princess of Corona, Rapunzel der Sonne. The princess quickly proves more than a handful - clever and foolish, dutiful and delinquent in turns. Cassandra's heart inevitably falls under the rule of the future queen, but is the price of her best friend's love more than either of them can bear?Or: Rapunzel escapes the tower at seven years old and never really stops running. Cassandra learns to love the chase.
Relationships: Cassandra/Rapunzel (Disney: Tangled)
Comments: 141
Kudos: 161





	1. little ghost

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Foal AU](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/711382) by Empkinilly. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic deals with triggering content, specifically (mostly) canon-compliant child abuse, PTSD, and minor elements of self-harm. This is a central element of the story and not easily ignored, so please take care of yourself and don't read if this fic if it will be overly stressful for you!

\- Rapunzel, Age 7 / Cassandra, Age 11 -

* * *

There was a kid in the palace gardens. By itself that wasn't that unusual. At eleven, Cassandra was technically still a kid herself, and there were lots of them flitting throughout the palace doing small jobs during the day. The strange part was that she was the tiniest centaur Cassandra had ever seen. Cassandra’s dad was human and so was much of the Corona guard, so most of the children she knew were human. But she was pretty sure that they weren't supposed to be this small.

The _strange_ part was that the little thing stumbled out of a tangle of vines and grabbed onto Cassandra’s sleeve like a vice. Cass shook her arm a bit, as though trying to shoo a fly. It didn’t work. She didn’t know why she thought it would.

“What do you want? I have work to do.” Most of it was just errands since she was too young yet for bigger jobs, but they were hers, and who would do them if not Cassandra?

No response.

Her first instinct - to knock away the restraining hand - was completely hijacked by those big eyes looking up at her so timidly. Cass didn’t get all weird over babies, she didn’t feel whatever it was that made other girls coo over puppies and kittens. It was just one more way that she didn’t quite fit what she was supposed to be. It annoyed her that it annoyed her and this little thing? Just made it worse.

Cass tugged her sleeve away. “Go bother someone else.”

Fuck, she hoped she wasn’t gonna make another little kid cry.

Instead of the tears she expected, the girl tugged the thick, oversized wool sweater she wore higher up around her face and tucked her arms close to her chest as though she could disappear into it.

Weird.

Weird enough that Cassandra leaned in to give the tiniest centaur on earth another once-over. The sweater was so featureless it was useless for gauging where she came from - there were no special patterns to indicate her house or family, and none of the elaborate knotwork that would mark her out as coming from the docks. Green was a popular color, so there was no lead there either.

A servant’s daughter, or a guard’s?

On a closer look, the girl was a handful of years younger than Cass. Her features were delicate, almost too symmetrical in a way that Cass wouldn't be able to place even if asked. Even the horse-like part of her body wasn't gangling - she was more perfectly balanced than some adults. Less like a foal and more like an ideal image of one, like a centaur version of the dolls some of the noble's daughters hauled around.That was where the resemblance ended - her thick, ragged blonde braid and choppy coat were covered in a layer of dirt. Her coat could be any color from white to dun under there.

Her steady stare was a piercing green, bright as shards of broken bottle.

Cassandra backed up with a huff, tossing her head to shake away the crawling up her spine. “Look, I have stuff to do. Stay here and play in the dirt or something.”

Did the kid stay there? No, no of course not.

The little thing followed Cass through her chores without a word. The way she moved was familiar but not quite. Less like a centaur and more like a deer, each hoof placed carefully as she moved. Almost silent. When Cass wasn’t looking directly at the kid she couldn’t be sure she was there.

She was the first centaur close to her age Cass ever met, so she almost couldn’t help comparing herself to this tiny scrap of a thing. Cass was all lean and long, with legs that never seemed to know where she wanted them to go. She noticed for the first time the depth of her own ribs, the narrowness of her chest, the dusty brown of her own hide. How loud her big, clomping hooves were in the stone hallways. Cassandra slowed to a stop in an alcove, the needling drive to finish her chores wasn't quite enough to drive her on with that little brat staring her down at every turn.

Cassandra didn’t like being self-conscious. She hated the way it wound tighter in her chest until all she could think about was breaking something. Cass stomped absently with one of her hooves, and the sound, the jolt, pulled her out of her thoughts and back into her body. She stomped a few more times, rhythmless and loud and angry and all the things that roiled beneath her skin.

That small hand grabbed her sleeve again, and Cassandra went stiff, her hands curled into fists. When she looked down though, that delicate little face was creased with concern, and it was easier to choke down the anger than even imagine taking it out on something so small. Cass watched as the girl worked Cassandra’s fist open and laced their hands together. Then the girl sidled nervously sideways so that they were standing side by side. The little thing peeked up at her, and shuffled a tiny bit closer.

There was a language deeper than words, and it wasn’t hard to read when it was scrawled in the open book of that girl’s eyes. _Are you okay? Can I help you? Will this make you feel better?_

Was this kid always so expressive, or was this the first time Cassandra really looked?

Cass was too young, too separated from her own kind to know that this was the language of the herd - not spoken but understood. Centaurs and humans resembled each other in passing but they were different at the root: where humans worked together, centaurs moved together. Their language lived in the tension between one body and another. They were a species defined by motion.

Cassandra wasn't sure she liked it.

“...Yeah, well. It’s almost time for dinner. The troop said I can eat with them tonight, since the Captain is gonna be busy.” _The Troop_ was something of an informal name for the families of the guard. They were after all the ones that patched uniforms and cooked meals and presided over an army of half-feral children. Cass often felt different but she was never truly alone. What better place to take a this kid than the safest place she knew?

So despite her misgivings, Cassandra sighed and shuffled, her tail flicking an anxious beat. “Do you wanna come with me?”

Cass didn’t need to worry. The kid let out a croaking squeak and bounced in place, nearly dragging Cass over with a lunge forward.

“Hey, hey, don’t pull - wait -”


	2. knight

\- Rapunzel, Age 7 / Cassandra, Age 11 -

* * *

By the time Cassandra’s father returned the tiny centaur had a Troop Designated Nickname - because the name she did give them, when Cassandra thought to ask, was cracked and almost inaudible - and a bowl of vegetable stew big enough to drown in.

She trembled like a leaf against Cassandra’s side, and flinched at sudden movements or raised voices. There was a lot of both in that crowded, noisy dining hall. All the same, the Troop seemed as enchanted as if Cassandra brought a stray pup home. If Little Scraps let them they would have showered her with attention… but she would have none of that. It was easy to see why she was covered in dirt if she wouldn’t let anyone or anything close. 

Except for Cass, apparently.

In retrospect it was almost funny. Her father came in with his head down, his helmet in his hands, ready to call his off-duty guards to action to comb the grounds for his missing charge. And there she was in the middle of the mess hall hanging off his daughter’s sleeve. 

“Princess Rapunzel,” he said, somehow conveying his shock through suddenly perfect posture alone. The room came to a grinding halt, every one of the Troop turning to stare at their tiny new friend and by extension Cass.

Cassandra’s father wasn’t a cruel man but he was a stern one. When his eyes turned to Cass with the weight of a hammer hitting an anvil she almost forgot to breathe. “What did you do?” 

If the din fell to a dull roar when the Captain walked in, you could hear a pin drop now. Not one of them would say a word. Not when there was the chance of being accused of kidnapping the lost princess. Cassandra didn’t even look to them for help. She understood.

“Dad, I…” There was no defense, she realized with a sinking stomach. It wasn’t fair but didn’t matter. There was no point in arguing when his jaw set like that. 

Except that one figure didn’t remain still. Scraps - _no, Rapunzel, the actual lost princess_ \- wobbled between Cassandra and the rest of the room. She could hear the tiny, panicked sips of air, and half expected that the princess wanted to be comforted. Instead she found herself steadily pushed back and sideways, forcing her behind the other girl. 

“Scraps.” The silly nickname that would absolutely not be well-received by anyone outside this room just… slipped out. She had no other words.There were no other words. 

Cassandra would become familiar with those skinny arms thrown around her waist - with this trembling bravery. How could Cass not love her in that moment? No one really stood up for her before, and never, ever when they thought it might lose them something. Never with their eyes squeezed tight, never with thin shoulders shaking.

Cassandra wasn't the soft type. There was nothing servile in her, nothing that bent before it broke.

Except in that moment something in Cass bent knee. Cassandra was a knight laying dormant, with the oaths of old kingdoms burning in her bones. Her father could rage and the king himself could be thunderous in his silence, but she would never be commanded by another for as long as she lived. She didn’t know this in so many words, but she felt something inside her shift to make room. 

“Can you be mad later?” She said carefully, struggling to stay upright with Rapunzel trying to nudge Cassandra further away from her dad. “She’s really scared.”

Cassandra wasn’t really sure what the Captain was looking for when he looked between them, but whatever he saw made him let out a slow breath. “We will talk about this later.” 

She could work with that. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there may be a range of chapter lengths in this fic. RIP.


	3. runaway

\- Rapunzel, Age 8 / Cassandra, Age 12 -

* * *

The reason for Rapunzel’s little disappearing act quickly became clear. She just couldn’t stay fucking put. Rapunzel had a knack for finding gaps in logic and fences, and was good at taking advantage of both. There wasn’t a door she didn’t want to open and no wall she didn’t want to find a way around.

Thankfully it didn’t look like Rapunzel was going to pull anything new out of her bag of tricks today. Her hoofprints were clear and distinct on the muddy soil - the only set without shoes - and though Rapunzel’s trail wandered this way and that, there was no real attempt to throw Cassandra off the scent. Maybe that sounded like a silly concern, but unlike the other guards she wasn’t going to make the mistake of underestimating her quarry. Rapunzel was sneakier than she looked. 

Cassandra sighed. She wasn’t going to point any fingers, but she wasn’t the one that kept losing track of one eight year old girl. Why did she end up stuck with this job?

Oh, that’s right. It’s because Cass was an idiot.

She could still remember the king’s heavy hand on the top of her head. How he stood tall as a tower, with eyes that were somehow both cool and kind. She’d never seen him up close. It was strange to realize Corona’s Centaur-King was built like an ordinary cart horse. “Thank you for taking care of my daughter.”

She could have said literally anything else. But in that soaring throne room with the light falling through the great windows, with the dizzying high of approval flowing through her veins? She felt like anything was possible. “I wanted to.”

Technically her title was “Lady in Waiting” but hell if she ever got to do any actual waiting. Half the time she was on a manhunt for Rapunzel.

Cass came across a small footbridge she remembered from her mapping, and took care to scan up and down the creek banks for any further prints. Rapunzel made that mistake before though, so Cass didn’t think she would again. So she continued following the path. Cass would deny it if questioned, but she put a little extra bounce in her step as she crossed just to hear her hooves thunder on the wooden bridge.

If the king weren’t so unforgiving when it came to keeping his daughter within the palace walls, Cassandra might actually have fun with this. It was like hide-and-seek except her target was actually clever and always improving. 

Not that she was a match for Cassandra. Yet.

When Cassandra finally caught up to the little princess she was leaning over a mud puddle, her knobbly legs sprawled awkwardly so that she could almost reach the surface of the water. It wasn’t like she was hard to miss - her golden coat almost glittered even in the shade. So at least she didn’t get into the creek on the way here. On the other hand her unraveling braid was predictably full of every blade of grass between her bedroom window and this godforsaken fallow field. Thank goodness for puddles or she would be halfway to the next town before Cassandra caught up.

"Cass! Cass, look at this! There are - there are little things in the water." Rapunzel’s tail flickered into a golden, fluffy blur.

"Those are probably bugs, Raps. Or tadpoles." 

"You didn't even look." The princess straightened and combed her hair back out of her eyes purely to throw Cassandra a more effective pout. She even crossed her arms, a habit she almost certainly picked up from her mom. It really didn't do anything but make Cassandra want to snort whenever the queen did it. 

"There aren't a lot of things it could be," Cass argued, even though she was already moving to look. "Yep, bugs."

"What kind?"

"The kind that eat blonde runaways."

Rapunzel backed away from the puddle and looked between Cass and the water. Her eyes were huge with more interest than fear. “Really?”

“No.”

Rapunzel huffed and stomped both of her forelegs. "Mean."

"Well if you didn't run off all the time, maybe I would be nicer." She plucked at Rapunzel's sleeve until Rapunzel gave in and tangled their hands together, bumping Cassandra's shoulder with hers with a sulky little grumble. 

"What was that?" Cassandra asked, playfully shoving right back.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to,” Rapunzel mumbled finally.

She never meant to, really. Just... got excited and wandered off before she thought it through. Cassandra steered the princess back toward the castle, and was relieved that Rapunzel followed along without a fight. "What was it this time?"

Rapunzel perked up instantly, her eyes blazing up with that infectious excitement. "Well, I was drawing and I saw this bird outside my window - "

Cass was almost tempted to take the long way back - the path that ran through the back gardens where the summer flowers were prettiest. Rapunzel would probably love it. But... they had a schedule to keep, and the princess had enough brambles in the long hair around her hooves to keep Cass busy for a half hour at least. 

Even so... she was tempted.


	4. song

\- Rapunzel, Age 9 / Cassandra, Age 13 -

* * *

“Come on, take the gloves off.”

Rapunzel’s nightgowns were way more ornate than they had to be - all ribbons and ruffles and long skirts that were worse than useless as far as centaurs were concerned - but there was no reason for _anyone_ to wear gloves to bed. 

“Listen, Raps, if you dyed your hands purple again we can get it off.” Cass made another swipe for the smaller girl, who darted away and left Cassandra tottering to regain her balance. “I’m not gonna be mad.”

“No!” Rapunzel actually kicked out her back hooves, pulling just short of actual contact. It wasn’t intended to hurt, but the message was clear, and unusually aggressive for Rapunzel: _Back off, or else._

They had been at this for long enough that even Cass had to stagger to lean against a wall, her sides heaving. 

Rapunzel peeked over her lectern-bed. The function was the same as Cassandra’s - a hybrid between a lectern and the back of a chaise lounge for upright sleeping - but the purple velvet upholstery was way fancier. Considering the “bed” unfolded from the wall, it was too cute to see Raps trying to hide behind it. 

It would be much cuter if she weren’t currently being a brat. 

“Listen, just let me see. Whatever you did, we can fix it together.” Cassandra treaded a few steps closer, holding out an open hand. The gesture seemed to put the younger girl at ease when little else would - and she could see the way a tiny bit of tension eased from Rapunzel’s shoulders. 

Rapunzel crept closer and placed her small, gloved hand in Cassandra’s palm. Cass pulled the gloves off one at a time… and let out a slow breath. It wasn’t purple dye this time.

Cass whistled. “That looks like it hurts, Raps.”

Cassandra ran a careful thumb over the thin red welts that striped the back of Rapunzel’s hands. They were expertly spaced and didn’t overlap. Probably from a thin rod if Cassandra was any judge - and she was intimately familiar with all kinds of punishment at this point. It was unusually heavy-handed for the precious lost princess’ teachers.

“He said I had to learn to sing.”

Of course it was the new music teacher. Cassandra disliked him the moment he strode into the castle on his stupid stork legs and looked down on Rapunzel like she was a bug to be eaten. Her first impression was only confirmed as time went on. The man was clearly an import to sunny Corona, with an expression of disapproval firmly stuck to his face and the personality of a loaf of stale bread.

And apparently a mean streak.

It was weird he was trying to force Raps to sing. The princess was mostly accomplished with stringed instruments. If left to her own devices she would play until her fingers split and bled, arranging and rearranging the same sweet little melody until Cassandra finally pried the instrument from her hands. 

It kinda creeped Cass out if she were honest. Not that anyone asked her opinion on what subjects the princess should or shouldn’t learn. Not that even Rapunzel really had an option. The princess had more authority than any nine year old should have, but she was still only a princess. The orders of her king were absolute and her teachers acted with his authority.

The only real answer seemed pretty clear cut, so much so that Cassandra almost felt stupid pointing it out.

“Why don’t you just do it, Raps? Your voice is probably fine. Why not just sing?”

Rapunzel’s jaw tightened and shoulders set in the way that Cassandra recognized best. Calling Rapunzel stubborn was a massive understatement. Once she got an idea into that pretty blonde head she was downright bullish.

Rapunzel shook her head.

“Seriously?” Cassandra couldn’t bite back her first thought. “Why?”

“Mother asked me to sing.”

“Uh. Your mom the queen?”

Rapunzel shook her head again. “Mother.”

Rapunzel never called the queen anything but “mom”, and she never said it with as much weight as this. As if it was less a term of endearment than a title.

“I was angry, and I didn’t want to sing for her anymore. So I said I wouldn’t.” Rapunzel didn’t lift her gaze from the backs of her hands… but Cass could see the shadow that passed over her face all the same. “She wasn’t happy.”

Cassandra’s mind was racing. No one in Corona knew for sure where the princess was for those seven years, or who stole her away. The story was that she was found wandering in the forest, and there was little detail beyond that. There were rumors of course - each stranger than the last. The only one Cassandra actually believed was that one of her rescuers still had the scars from her teeth in his forearm. That was very Rapunzel.

The girl herself held her silence. With darkening eyes and bruises, her jaw set like she expected a fight. Cassandra wasn’t sure that she wanted the truth after all.

“Okay.” Cass said finally. This was a big thing. This was something bigger than Cassandra knew how to deal with. But she knew how to fix other things. “Come on. I’m gonna draw some water from the well and we’ll cool your hands off. It’ll make the marks go away faster.”

The music teacher was gone in a month. The questions he left in his wake haunted Cassandra far longer.

This illustration is by [@justatiredhorse](https://twitter.com/justatiredhorse) on twitter!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the curious: Centaurs don’t tend to wear a lot of fabric on their horse-like bodies or around their legs. Most fashion with their influence is focused around the human torso because it doesn’t inhibit movement and temperature regulation. Centaurs in Corona mostly follow this pattern but the upper class have more human influence to their fashion, even when it is a poor choice from a utility standpoint.
> 
> Most furniture designed with centaurs in mind unfolds from cabinets or walls, due to their larger bodies it helps conserve space and make it easier to move around smaller rooms.


	5. moonflower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cassandra loves teasing Rapunzel, it's the best part of her day.

Rapunzel, Age 12 / Cassandra, Age 16

* * *

"What the heck are you up to this time, Raps?"

Rapunzel jumped at the sudden voice and nearly toppled over, which was no surprise. She was balanced on her back hooves with her front legs braced against a wall, stretching out as far as she could to reach... a vine?

"Nothing!" Rapunzel squeaked, dropping down and straightening out her dress. Thankfully there were no grass stains or tears in the sheer purple fabric, or Cassandra just might scream.

"If you're trying to escape again it's not gonna work. The other side is just another walled garden, you know?" Cass didn’t even bother to conceal the prickle of irritation in her voice. 

Rapunzel huffed, sidling sideways in that way that telegraphed her guilt. "I wasn't trying to escape. You asked me not to today."

Cassandra scoffed even as her chest warmed despite herself. She was weak to Rapunzel giving her requests extra weight - always had been, probably always would be. "I'll believe it when I see it."

"I'm here, aren't I?" Okay, Rapunzel wasn’t allowed to pout like that as if she weren’t a chronic escape artist.

"Until you forget and wander off." Cassandra flicked Rapunzel's forehead and snickered at the bitten-off little squeal she got in response. "Again. You have the attention span of a ferret."

"Cass!"

There was a very specific way that Rapunzel jumped around when she was overcome with feeling. So different from her natural agility or her endlessly practiced self control. She flailed, jumped, bucked. Exactly like the sleek, vicious little beasts that the groundskeeper kept to hunt down vermin. 

Cassandra clearly remembered holding an entire wriggling litter in her hands, and saying exactly what she did now: "A silly baby noodle." 

She took care to keep her voice totally serious, and reached out to squish Rapunzel’s cheeks between her hands. “Raps, Raps, Scraps, raps the scraps,” she chanted, loving the way the words became total nonsense when said enough times. Her efforts were totally worth the way the princess huffed and puffed. 

"Cass!" Rapunzel said finally, and stomped one of her forelegs petulantly. All it did was make her look cuter.

She was too damn easy to tease. Not that Cassandra minded one bit - she never got sick of watching Rapunzel bounce in place with sheer annoyance.

Eventually though, her curiosity overcame her amusement. “What were you doing, anyway?”

“Oh - um.” Rapunzel visibly considered the question, tilting her head and regarding Cassandra with something almost like suspicion. If she were capable of such a thing. Which she wasn’t, along with subtlety and moderation. “I was trying to get more of these.”

Her hands were full of rotting petals clinging to dried husks.

“Gross dead flowers?”

“No! They’re pods - with seeds in them. I want to plant them by my window.” 

“Huh. Couldn’t you just… ask for some?”

“But they’re just right there.” There was that familiar spark blazing up in her eyes, the one that Cassandra admired as much as it drove her absolutely mad. “I can reach them on my own.” 

“...You don’t need to though.” Half the castle would fall all over themselves to ingratiate themselves with their future queen - but beyond that, Rapunzel was Corona’s little treasure. Literally, that’s what the townsfolk actually called her these days. There were more security details on this one child than there ever were on Corona’s crown jewels. Which made it that much more impressive that Rapunzel was constantly giving them the slip. 

She was by far the most spoiled, indulged kid in all of Corona. Though Cassandra supposed that the reason was simple as it was predictable. 

“Look, if I get you a couple more of those will you come back with me? Dad - the Captain is gonna be so mad already.”

Cassandra didn’t wait for an answer. She was taller and her legs were, as always, way too fucking long. It was short work to pick a handful of the crunchy dried pods and drop them into Rapunzel’s waiting hands. 

Rapunzel _beamed._ Honestly, who wouldn't do literally anything for a child that was so completely and easily pleased? _  
_

“Thank you, Cass!” There was so much honest joy in her eyes over a bunch of dead flowers. She folded them in her handkerchief as though they were precious, and tucked them into the little bag at her waist. Then she took Cassandra’s hand, and looked up at her very seriously. “I’ll be good, I promise.”

Damn her, seriously. That soft puppy-eyed look fucking worked, and Cass hated that it worked. 

Rapunzel drove Cassandra crazy. She was a stubborn little brat - sometimes fleeting, often thoughtless, and prone to random bouts of fancy that turned their days upside down. Cass was probably going to be polishing half the silver in the castle for this half hour in the gardens. But Rapunzel clasped Cassandra’s hand tightly, her smaller hand warmer and sweatier than it had any right to be on a cool morning like this one. Cass swallowed down her frustration. Sometimes it felt like the only thing she could do.

Their day moved forward, and by the time the next spring rolled around Cass forgot the incident entirely. 

The vine started as only three or four strands winding up an oversized trellis, but quickly overtook the structure so that the castle carpenters had to reinforce the wall of Rapunzel's balcony. Cassandra could vaguely recall seeing the plant before this moment, but it didn’t really command much attention. The big heart-shaped leaves were kind of cool, but it wasn’t… really anything special. 

Rapunzel clearly thought otherwise, but her tastes were weird on a good day. 

Then one night as Cassandra was preparing for the end of the day - the most laborious of which was getting the princess to settle down - she followed Rapunzel's voice to her balcony. Whatever conversation she was holding with Pascal quickly faded to the background in the face of that previously boring vine. Cass still didn’t get all the excitement but she could maybe almost see why Rapunzel wanted the seeds so bad. The spring breeze had traces of the most delicate perfume, like when Cassandra passed one of the court ladies in the hallway. In the blue evening light the big, pale flowers almost glowed.

For her part, Rapunzel didn’t seem to be caught up in the moment as Cassandra. She let out a little noise of victory, and shot up to her feet so quickly that Cass startled and nearly fell over her own hooves. 

Rapunzel stretched up and without preamble dropped the flower crown directly on Cassandra’s head. She backed up to look at Cass and - and it was really strange. How she seemed so utterly transfixed. “Oh.”

“You gonna let me in on what you’re doing?”

“They’re called moonflowers.” Rapunzel shuffled in place, her heavy tail flicking back and forth with excitement. “They’re my favorite!”

Rapunzel started trimming new lengths of vine away from the trellis with a pruning knife, chattering away about the plant as though she could think of nothing else. Cassandra learned that the blooms opened in the cool of evening and lingered all night, only to burn away each morning under the noonday sun. That the vines were tougher than the flowers and grew back each year, every year, and refused to be easily destroyed. Explaining everything except the purpose of the flower crown, naturally.

It was many years before Rapunzel let Cassandra in on the true nature of her thoughts: that the first time Rapunzel saw the blooms she was taken over with the image of them in Cassandra’s dark hair. 

“Ever since we were kids,” Rapunzel would smile against Cassandra’s cheek, years and miles removed from those children, “they’ve always reminded me of you.”


	6. something that shines

\- Rapunzel, Age 7 / Cassandra, Age 11 -

_One month after Rapunzel's return._

* * *

“The castle grew up over centuries, Cassandra.” Her father told her one day, his gloved hand brushed over a map pinned to his wall. The old, yellowed paper crackled under even that slight pressure. “There are many secret rooms and hidden tunnels. You should memorize this map if you want to join the royal guard’s ranks.”

Naturally Cass responded to her father’s suggestion by doing just that, and she quickly realized that the map wasn’t totally accurate. It was a realization that captured her imagination. In her head the walls unfurled ever upward from outpost to fortress to castle, almost an epic in itself, like a page rising to knighthood in the old stories. There was an appealing promise to that idea - that a place and its people shared a history.

Somehow, Cassandra could weave herself into Corona and become a part of it.

Beyond that the castle was her home. She played and worked in its halls and she knew more nooks and crannies than almost anyone. The place was a maze of disused rooms, tunnels, and hidden staircases. If the princess were really determined no one would find her in a hundred years. So Cass didn’t bother with searching for the princess when she already knew where she would go. 

Really, did Cass have to do everything? The princess could be terribly sneaky when giving her guards the slip, but her actual goals were simple enough to predict. The sun was nearing its highest point in the sky, which meant the gardens were Cassandra’s best bet.

The gardens surrounding the castle were extensive, for the most part functional rather than ornamental. The grounds were broken up between herb and vegetable gardens, as well as a small orchard, all enclosed by the walls of the outer court. However there was also the queen’s personal garden. That was where the queen and king had breakfast on the veranda when the weather was good, and it was where most of the ornamental flowers grew on the grounds. 

It took less than thirty minutes to sniff out where Rapunzel was hiding - in the very back of the Queen’s personal garden where the brick walls overflowed with vines old enough that the gardeners surrendered trying to trim them. Cass clawed her way through the green tangle, and let out a whoop at a flash of gold. Rapunzel started, nearly stumbling upright before tripping over herself and falling back down. She peered up at Cass for a long moment, swaying drowsily in place, before tucking her legs back against herself as neatly as a fawn.

“Cass?” Even after a month in the castle her voice was still a thin creak.

“Scraps.” Cass wiggled her way into the small space, and folded herself down to the ground with a thump. “What the hell are you doing in here?”

It was a nice hiding spot, Cassandra thought. The old wall sank into the ground and tilted forward just enough to create a gap between the thick, concealing mat of vines and the wall. The ground was even covered with a thick layer of fallen leaves, making the hollow unexpectedly soft and warm. 

A jaw-popping yawn answered THAT question. “Sleeping,” Rapunzel mumbled. 

Cassandra sensed her approaching doom a moment too late. The princess shuffled closer, then paused. Then wiggled a little nearer, before pausing to peek up at her again. Cass was just a kid herself, with all the restraint and self-awareness that implied. Even if she didn’t usually like to be touched, how was she supposed to react when her flighty, timid friend ever so slowly snuggled against her side? 

It wasn’t long before Rapunzel’s humanoid torso was draped over Cassandra’s back as though she were a pillow. Rapunzel was so warm and soft and totally limp. Like a sleepy puppy. If Cass described her ideal companion it would be something else - like a bird of prey or a big cat - fierce and swift and strong. Something sharp, something that shone. 

Cass tentatively settled her hand on Rapunzel’s head, combing her fingers through the golden strands. In this light she glittered. 


	7. unstable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys this is the chapter that I felt warranted an abuse tag! Just fair warning.

Rapunzel, Age 12 / Cassandra, Age 16

* * *

Cassandra’s room was just big enough for her to turn in it easily, which was honestly about as much as she needed. She only really needed somewhere to sleep and store her things. It wasn’t as if she usually liked staying indoors for long. Not that she had a choice right now. Earlier in the day she got so focused on working on her notes she didn’t even realize she was pawing until she heard pounding at her door. Only then did she realize that her hoof was stomping a crater in the wooden floor. Her dad always made the consequences for ruining yet another floor very clear. 

Even if they sucked.

With a rope binding the fetlock of her left foreleg to the same elbow there was no physical way she could stomp. No matter how much it made her want to do just that. 

Cass shifted her weight to turn and tottered with a bitten-off curse. Her leg tugged uselessly against the rope to try and right her balance. The tie didn’t really hurt at first, but after a while she started feeling the strain of constantly adjusting her weight. Her muscles were burning. Cass set her jaw and bent over her desk, focusing more intently on organizing her newest notes from the archive. 

It was so goddamn annoying. All the frustration and hurt boiled up until her bound leg was wiggling pathetically with bottled up energy. She was being punished like a fucking kid and if anyone saw this Cass would lose the last shreds of respect she had.

This was the worst.

A pebble bounced off her window and Cassandra froze, hoping against hope that - another rock skittered off the frame. Fuck.

“Cass! Come play.” Predictably, a pair of green eyes just barely peered over the window frame. Rapunzel had to be pushing up on her back legs to see in like that. 

Those peeking eyes widened. She definitely saw. Of course Cass couldn’t suffer in privacy. Whatever cranky thing she was going to snap didn’t get a chance to form, because Rapunzel dropped down and took off before she could say anything. 

Predictably, there was a voice at the door. Louder than she would like but more timid than she expected. “Hey Cass. Cass. Open the door.”

“Hush!” Cass hissed, hobbling over to the door as quickly as she could manage and leaned close to hear better. “And I can’t, the door is locked.”

“What?” The word came out in a stunned exhale.

“The door’s locked?” Cass repeated. How could she be more clear? She could slide a note under the door, she guessed. Maybe draw a map. 

Except there was no answer, and that was when a chill rushed down Cassandra’s spine. 

“Raps…”

Something slammed against the door so hard that the wood scraped against Cassandra’s cheek.

Cass flung herself back, nearly fell and only caught herself by grasping the edge of her desk. “Rapunzel, what are you doing!?” 

Each thump of hooves made Cassandra flinch. The door was solid oak and probably older than them both put together, but it shook on its hinges under the force of each kick. Cass could imagine each impact rattling up her own legs. Cassandra wasn’t someone who was scared easily, but this reaction sent a bolt of fear through her stomach - and not just because it was so out of character. Centaurs were sturdier than horses, but they weren’t like humans. Their legs were more delicate than they looked.

Rapunzel could cripple herself for life on a stupid fucking door. 

“Stop that!” Cass felt her voice strain high and terrified and she wanted to punch herself for it. “Stop! Stop! You’re going to hurt yourself.”

Rapunzel didn’t stop. The kicking went on long enough for it to cross over into grotesque, long enough for Cass to start praying for someone to pass through the servant’s quarters and put a stop to this. Long enough for Cassandra’s voice to go raw and fall silent, so all she could hear was the unnervingly voiceless impacts from the other side. Then the door - or rather, the door frame - finally mercifully gave way, and the door slammed open under Rapunzel’s weight. 

Rapunzel wobbled on spindly legs. Her eyes white-rimmed, her heaving sides dripping with sweat as though she just ran a marathon. Her golden hair haloing her face so that she looked like a vision from a legend. Like a valkyrie or a warrior queen. Then the image dissolved when Rapunzel tottered forward, all-too real and fragile.

Cass flinched away as she approached, her heart drumming in her mouth. She shouldn’t be afraid of Rapunzel. Right? 

_Oh, Cass._ Rapunzel mouthed. She lowered to her knees and ran a shaking hand over Cassandra’s tied leg, her pallid face creased with an expression Cass didn’t understand. 

All Cass knew was that it was too close to pity for her taste, and it made her want to kick and snap. Maybe she would have if she weren’t so unbalanced, but any sudden motion made her wobble precariously. Shame lodged in her throat and she couldn’t seem to swallow it down as easily as anger. This couldn’t get any worse.

“Listen… listen, I know you think you’re helping or something, but you don’t under -”

“What is going on here?” A deep voice from the doorway.

Oh no, it could definitely get worse. Cassandra’s dad loomed in the doorway, his brows knitted together as he took in the broken door. Then he looked up at them, his confusion settling into a tension that ran down the center of his body. Anger, written clearly as if he spoke it out loud. 

“What do you think you’re doing? Get away from my daughter.”

Cassandra’s breath stopped. That was the only reason she caught Rapunzel’s tiny, cut-off whimper, the irregular hitch in her shoulders as though she was about to puke.

Cassandra knew what was coming before she consciously realized it. Rapunzel stumbled to her feet and planted herself in front of Cass. Squared herself off against the Captain, every muscle in her slight body coiling with tension like a snake. It wasn’t as if Cassandra never heard another person scream. But this was no shout of pain or surprise. The sound that tore out of Rapunzel in bloody strips was a fury that bordered on murderous. It was: _Stop there or be prepared to fight_. It was: _Try me, I won’t go easily_. An adult centaur’s conviction to fight, not a child’s frightened wail. Too big a feeling for a girl so small.

Every hair of Cassandra’s body stood on end.

It didn't help that Rapunzel kept crowding Cassandra back against the wall, and between that and her bound leg Cass couldn’t catch enough balance to try and circle around. If only she could draw her attention away from her target. “Rapunzel? Raps?”

Rapunzel didn’t look away from the splintered doorway, but she turned her head just enough to chill Cass to the bone. Her eyes were blank, her lips pulled back from her teeth. Whatever she was seeing, whatever she raged against, it wasn’t the Captain anymore. Cass scrambled to remember what detail she missed. The princess had her moods but they passed like a cloud before the sun, barely dimming her light before they were gone again. A pale and trembling moment after being confined for some escapade, a flinch at the turn of a key in a lock. Never anything that signaled… this.

Captain took Rapunzel’s divided attention as a chance to take one halting step forward. Rapunzel straightened, turning her full wild-eyed stare on him once more. And _screamed._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It turns out "fake it until you make it" doesn't really work with trauma. 
> 
> Important additional note: This kind of tie is 100% abusive to real actual horses and it's just as much abuse if you do it to your adoptive horse daughter, Cassandra's just got some serious This Is Fine going on.


	8. Interlude One: Rapaunzel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We can have their first meeting from Rapunzel's point of view. As a treat.

\- Rapunzel, Age 7 / Cassandra, Age 11 -

* * *

Even though the sunlight could pass through the windows, Rapunzel couldn’t. They were blocked by a clear surface - like ice - surface broken up by thin strips of wood, and the entire structure rattled and crackled alarmingly once when she tapped it. She stayed away from touching the windows after that. 

On either side there were really long curtains, and behind them was a nice space for sleeping if she could get there before anyone saw where she was going. The cloth was fuzzy and soft, and reminded her of her friends in the woods - the quiet, almost-like-her creatures that she gathered were called "deer". She missed being able to curl up with them. Even if this place was warm enough not to need to huddle, it wasn't really the same.

This strange new place was made up mostly of walls. Some of them closed on top with hard, slippery floors that were shiny enough that her reflection kept startling her when she moved. The other rooms she liked better, because they were open to the sky. Some of those had nothing but gravel or thin grass. She didn't like those much. Others were more like her home, with tall, whispering trees, bushes, and brambles.

The people who caught her watched her so close it was hard to elude them for long, but she was determined to get away as much as she could. She didn't like the way their loud voices bounced against the closed walls, or how they stood too close and got grabby if she didn't watch them carefully. Many of them bared their teeth in a disturbing way even when they spoke softly.

Luckily for her, they thought she couldn't figure out their silly locks.

Rapunzel peeked around the corner, holding very still to avoid drawing attention to her position. There were the sounds of heavy boots all around her - her pursuers were far from quiet or subtle. She could almost smell the ink-and-wax of their boot polish from here. Which meant she had to move quickly. They had numbers on their side and she had only her own eyes and wits. And Pascal, she reminded herself, patting carefully at the bag at her side and getting a comforting squeak in response. Though her friend was of little help in a place made of smooth walls and little else. 

She crept from behind one decorative curtain and tapestry to another, slowly, slowly making her way through the path she mapped out in advance. It took quite a bit of preparation without anywhere to mark out maps, as well as very little opportunity to explore the maze without watchful eyes knowing she was testing her boundaries. 

A flurry of footsteps approached, and Rapunzel froze in her place behind a helpfully arranged row of decorative shields.

"There's no trace of her, Captain." A murmur of agreement rippled through the milling men.

Humans were difficult to understand. They all seemed to bunch together without any rhyme or reason to the way they moved, ungainly in the way they corrected themselves to not bump into each other. There was no order to it, an unwelcome jolt to her senses like tripping unexpectedly. Some deep instinct whispered of running together, of the self extending outward until the herd moved as one thing. Yet there had to be some pattern she didn't understand. Was it the hats? The Captain wore the biggest hat. Perhaps he was the leader because of that. If she stole the hat would she be leader, then? That seemed about right. Probably.

That was an experiment for another day, so she moved on when the coast was clear. 

Of all the options in this maze of walls Rapunzel liked one area best - it had lots of plants that grew in rows, with broad leaves that made comfortable beds where they fell. The soil was dark and smelled strongly of decay, so that when she found a muddy spot to roll in, it covered her scent and pale hide enough she didn’t feel so exposed. It was also very close to the place where the people here stored their food, though it was difficult to get there with the constant bustle in and out.

Even so, she liked knowing where food was, even if she hadn’t quite figured out how to get it yet. The puzzle intrigued her, and the rewards of success were obvious. Food that was easy was usually not good. There was usually something bad attached to it, and the shiny silver plates loaded with food just made her skin twitch with a biting-flies-feeling.

In the meantime she decided to find a place to hide for a while, somewhere she could easily watch and listen. She always was good with patterns, and she could feel the pattern emerging like the way a new scent lingered in her nose when she breathed deeply. The way they moved, when and where. She could almost grasp some kind of meaning.

Though mostly she just wanted to sleep. It was difficult to relax fully in the room where these strangers kept putting her - it was too similar to the tower from memories that she didn’t dare touch upon. “Her” room had round walls that didn’t offer any safe corners for her to hide and the rattle of the wind against the strange windows kept startling her awake even when she did sleep. The patches of undergrowth that separated the different areas of the outdoor-rooms were as close as she could get to the woods. It was a little cold, but mostly quiet if she found the right tucked-away place. 

Then Rapunzel saw the girl. 

There were two others like Rapunzel here, but they stared too much, and talked too much with heavy voices that made her hair stand up on her body. No matter how gently they spoke or how carefully they offered their hands, their desperation made her nervous. They were also very big, big enough to make her nervous when they moved too quickly. This one was little, like Rapunzel! Okay, so a head or so taller, but close enough. She was long and lean with a dark coat with pale, close-set dapples that made a pattern like rippled shadows at the bottom of a stream. Her fur and hair both curled a little at the tips, and looked dense and soft. There was an alertness, an awareness to the way she moved that Rapunzel liked. 

Rapunzel almost didn’t know how to gather her thoughts. For so much of her life things were a straight line that she could see clearly. There was her goal and there were the points between. All else fell away. She didn’t know what to do with this feeling. Rapunzel didn’t even realize what she was doing until the sleeve was already in her hand. She just wanted… It turned out the other girl’s eyes were mossy brown, sharp in a way that Rapunzel recognized. 

The other girl said things that didn’t even register in Rapunzel’s daze and tugged her sleeve free, and Rapunzel snapped out of her stupor enough to hide in her sweater. 

Oh no, oh no, she was so pretty. 


	9. unstable pt.2

\- Rapunzel, Age 12 / Cassandra, Age 16 -

* * *

The trail ended where the slope turned rocky. Cassandra cursed under her breath, pacing back and forth to try and find a broken twig or a hoofprint that could give her a clue. There was nothing. 

No, she wasn’t going to give up like this. She convinced the king she could find his daughter alone… and more importantly she had to do this for Rapunzel’s sake. It wasn’t safe for her to be out here. What if she got hurt? What if she got lost, or lured away and kidnapped? What if, what if. Cassandra came to a slow stop and took one breath, then another, gathering up the shaky panic in her chest and shoving it somewhere deep, deep down to deal with later. 

Was Cassandra born with this fear etched into the inside of her skull?

That fun question would still be there for Cass to bottle up and _never deal with_ if - _when_ she finally chased down the princess. In the meantime she had to think like Rapunzel. That was the one thing she learned over the years: it was totally useless to comb through all the possible nooks and crannies when she could figure out where her charge was going. She scanned the slope, picking out narrow deer paths and patches of brightly colored flowers that would draw a certain princess’ attention. 

The dip between two hills was cut through with a wide, shallow stream, which washed away enough soil that there was a flat area of stony ground. No tracks to follow. So where would Rapunzel go? There was no way for the princess to know there was only a lone hunter on her tail. She might walk upstream in the water to better cover her scent and tracks if the guards brought their dogs. 

Downstream narrowed down to snake between two halves of a giant split boulder, the pebbled bed giving way to a smooth stone gulch. The gulch drew Cassandra’s attention downward, and as she followed it with her eyes a thought took shape. Rapunzel was always painfully curious. That channel of stone would be a mystery instead of a danger, a siren call she couldn’t resist no matter what drove her out to this lonely place.

If this was where Cassandra lost Rapunzel’s tracks there were only two options. A flip of a coin. A fifty-fifty chance of being correct. Cass turned downstream, and took a few tentative steps into the water. It was barely deep enough to cover Cassandra’s hooves. No matter how quickly the water flowed it wasn’t enough to sweep her away. Even when her shoes skidded over the algae, sending her sliding down a few feet and making her heart thud wildly in her ears.

She followed the stream until the gulch ended in an opening in the earth that was only just big enough to swallow a horse and cart - but the cavern that opened up below was much, much bigger. She could hear water moving below, down in the dark where the moon couldn’t reach. Water. _Of course_ the gulch ended in a sinkhole and _of course_ it was full of water.

Oh no, hell no. No. Nope.

She turned awkwardly in the narrow space, her haunches scraping uncomfortably against the stone. Now that she saw where the gulch ended she was convinced upstream was the better option. Cass lost so much time following this dead end. How stupid was she? 

Then Cassandra’s hoof slipped out from under her, and she landed on her side hard enough to make her skull rattle - she was barely able to register the impact before the steep angle and the algae sent her sliding down the gulch. The sinkhole waiting like an open maw. Then she was falling. 

She shot right through the water to the bottom and slammed hard against the stone floor beneath. Her eyes opened in the stinging salt water, and she caught the impression of glittering lights. Whether the stars dancing in her eyes were from the impact or the air being knocked out of her lungs it was hard to say. 

A pair of hands grabbed her under the arms and heaved once, twice, three times, dragging her sputtering to the shallows where she could wheeze out her panic safely in knee-deep water. The hands let her go when she was able to stand up fully on her own. With water still trailing from her hair into her eyes all she could see was a blur of gold slogging away, but she would know that shape in her sleep.

“Rapunzel, come back.” Cass still felt like she was drowning, even as she floundered out of the shallows and up onto the sandy shore. “It’s not safe out here. You need to come back!”

Rapunzel whirled to face Cass once they were both firmly on the sand, her shoulders drawn up, her hands curled into tight, shaking fists. “Why can’t you just let me go? I don’t need your protection. I don’t _want it._ ” 

Cass knew she shouldn’t let it hurt. Cassandra was the queen of lashing out when she was upset, she knew the bitter wellspring of hate and pain and how it felt to sink so deep she could drown. Even so, she was exhausted and terrified and in pain, and the words found a chink in her armor like a well-placed arrow.

She always wanted to bear a sword for her country, to protect people and prove that she deserved… anything. 

“Like hell you don’t,” Cass spat back. She grabbed Rapunzel’s arm and tugged her into the light spilling from the hole overhead. Her clothes were shredded and soaked with water, but Rapunzel looked totally unharmed. Thank goodness.

Cassandra’s place at Rapunzel’s side was rarely easy or pleasant. There was no glory to be found in being a handmaiden, but hell if anyone was going to take this place Cass carved out for herself without a fight. Not until Cass was good and ready to leave.

“I’m off my game for _one day_ and you disappear into the wilderness like an animal.” Cass continued, loosening her grip on Rapunzel’s arm when she saw her flinch. “What the hell, Raps? Everyone’s freaking out. You could have hurt yourself getting down here. You could _die_ out here and no one would ever figure out what happened to you. What were you thinking?”

Anger was easy. Anger burned everything away, leaving Cass clean and pure and with singular purpose. Fear - fear was complicated. It was fear that coiled dark and heavy in her chest and made her eyes burn. “Please tell me. What on earth were you thinking?”

Rapunzel refused to meet her eyes, visibly chewing at the inside of her cheek.

“I was scared,” Rapunzel said finally, “I scared you - and - and the guards saw what I did. They saw you... being hurt. You were right to be upset.” She sank to the sand, taking Cass down with her simply because Cassandra wasn’t willing to let go. “They know that I’m - that everything isn’t okay, Cass.”

All the court whispered: There was something wrong with Rapunzel. She was as pited as she was loved, under constant evaluation no matter how she was treasured by Corona and her people. No matter how Raps tried she was… too real. She couldn’t measure up to the image of the Lost Princess. Sometimes it took all of Cassandra’s willpower not to throw herself at the fuckers that didn’t know how to keep their mouths shut. 

In the end hadn’t Rapunzel proved them right by losing her mind for no real reason?

Once the guards started crowding in the hallway there was no way to deescalate the situation. Rapunzel practically vibrated with tension. When the princess pulled a knife from her belt - the one that she used to peel apples and sharpen pencils - Cass had just enough time to flinch before the rope around her leg snapped under the blade. Their eyes met, and Rapunzel’s jaw clenched at what she saw. Then Rapunzel charged out of the room at full tilt, her natural nimbleness serving her well even in the castle’s tight corridors. The guards thundered after the princess, ignoring Cassandra’s raw shouts for them to _stop._

Whether the danger was true or not… the fact she thought about Cass first was real. That was her princess. That was the Rapunzel that mattered. 

Cass learned long ago it was better not to question Rapunzel too deeply. All her oddies hid a hundred different hurts, and Cassandra was a coward who couldn’t begin to heal even one of them. She asked anyway: “What happened, Raps? That... all of that was unexpected.”

Rapunzel took in a short, shaky breath, grasping blindly for Cassandra’s hand because she was staring hard at anywhere but Cass. “I was afraid he would hurt you.” 

“Raps, you can’t really think that.” It was so far from Cassandra’s fears that it was across the sea and in a whole other country. The Captain was… difficult. A man who demanded military discipline from everyone around him, to the point hardly anyone called him anything but his title. But he wasn’t a monster. “My dad would never hurt me.”

Cassandra never wanted to fall short of his expectations, but she never feared for her safety. 

Rapunzel shook her head, but thankfully she didn’t argue the point. Instead she dabbled her front hooves on the surface of the water, sending reflected light scattering through the cove. Tiny fish darted away from the motion, but when they weren’t pursued came back in their sparkling schools to investigate. Even Cass couldn’t deny this hidden lagoon was beautiful - in this cave the night was all painted in blue and green and gold, with Rapunzel at its center. She almost seemed like a part of this place with her green eyes catching the ethereal glow, her golden hide shimmering each time the water rippled. 

“Before I came back, someone… hurt me. Mother. I was - I thought I was going to die.” Her grip on Cassandra’s hand tightened. “I just - all I could think was that you were going to be hurt. The way I was. I’m sorry. That I scared you.”

The bottom fell right out of Cassandra's stomach when Rapunzel’s free hand went to her own throat, an almost absent gesture that Cass recognized from years before. A lot of things snapped into place: Rapunzel's prolonged silence when she first returned, and the broken little rasp that was all she could produce at first. Healed enough that there was no ring of bruises, no mark left behind by hands around her throat. No trace except a voice that hadn't yet returned. Cassandra felt sick.

Rapunzel leaned her head on Cassandra’s shoulder. “You’ve always made me feel safe, Cass. I want to do whatever I can to protect you too.”

“That’s not your job.” Cass managed around the lump in her throat. She desperately wanted to cry, or break something, or both.

When Rapunzel leaned back to look up at her, that sharp green gaze pinned her in place like a dart on a board. “Of course it is. We take care of each other Cass, that’s what friends do. ...Right?”

 _We aren’t friends._ The first words on Cassandra’s tongue stung in her mouth. If it were anyone else maybe she would actually say that - she didn’t need friends. Certainly not her actual employer and future ruler, and definitely not a flighty little ball of manic energy. 

“You’re right,” Cass said, more gently than she ever said anything in her entire life, “that is what friends do.” She couldn’t choose to hurt Raps that way. Not for anything. Not even for her own peace of mind. 

Rapunzel’s pale attempt at a smile widened into something almost honest, and she squeezed Cassandra’s hands in both of hers. “I’ll do better, Cass. I won’t mess up again, okay?”

Somehow Cassandra doubted that. “Okay, Raps.”

“Before we go running back to Corona… I found something down here.” Rapunzel struggled to her feet and waited for Cass to stand as well before grabbing Cassandra’s hand again and drawing her through the low-lying palms. Clouds of fireflies swirled up, startled by their passing. “You’ll think it’s so cool! It was worth all of this, I think.”

“Somehow I doubt it.” Cassandra muttered, earning an elbow in the ribs for her trouble.

Now that she was less rattled she could look around the cave more openly. It was as though a slice of beach complete with palm trees and gently lapping surf got swallowed up by the surrounding pale stone. Other than the tiny opening where Cassandra fell, there was another much bigger fissure that revealed the full moon and a smattering of stars. The moonlight reflected off of the stone and water, filling the space with so much shimmery light that she felt like she could cup it in her hands and drink it down.

“How do we get out of here anyway, Raps? Unless you’ve got a ladder in your pocket I think we’re stuck.”

“There’s a path that way.” Rapunzel gestured vaguely toward the direction of the larger of the two openings, where Cass could make out the sound of waves against stone. She cast Cass an amused look. “I didn’t take the fast way down.”

“Shut up.”

“My hero.” Rapunzel snickered, skipping forward a few steps in her merriment. 

Cass was seriously considering pushing Rapunzel into the water. 

“No, really.” Raps peeked at her from the corner of her eye and bumped against Cass with her hip. “You’re my hero, Cass. All the time. I can’t believe you threw yourself down here to follow me. How did you even know?”

Cassandra coughed into her free fist. Oh shit. “Intuition.” 

Rapunzel giggled. Oh shit. Did she know? Surely she didn’t. 

“You aren’t hurt, are you? It was a long fall, even for you.”

“Oh, you know.” Cass scoffed, nervous energy making her paw a tuft of grass flat. “I’m fine. Great, even.”

“That’s a relief. I - oh, here we are!”

Cass nearly stumbled into a tree on seeing the bodies. Until she realized that what she was looking at was a statue. Two people carved from the same beautiful white marble that almost glowed in the refracted moonlight.

One was a centaur woman laying on her side as though at rest, her legs folded loosely in stone grass. Even softened in sleep her features were coarse and harsh, the smile playing on her thin lips giving the feeling that contentment was a rare visitor.

There was a careless pile of armor discarded at the woman’s side, deliberate in its finely carved detail. However the shield slotted into the marble was real metal. The paint was long faded, but the deeply carved device was clear as the day it was fixed in place. Cassandra could imagine it as it once was - a white horse rampant against a yellow sun. General Shampanier’s symbol and Corona’s layered together as one. 

The other figure cradled the woman’s head in his lap, with his head tilted back as though to greet the sun rising over the rim of the sinkhole. Though his face clearly suffered the most wear, Cassandra knew that face as well as her own father’s. Broad and bearded, with a deep scar that bisected his right eye and left that cheek sunken compared to the opposite side. There were many paintings of the king that all of Corona called Herz Der Sonne in the palace, though Cassandra never thought to question why they were only from the waist up.

The man’s legs, even obscured by the waves of the General’s unbound hair, were undoubtably human.

“Wow.” Cassandra said. Rapunzel was right, this statue took her breath away more than the beautiful scenery. How long ago was this put here? Probably after the war between Old Corona and the Great Herd of Saporia. 

To think that something like this was here of all places…

She leaned in closer, trying to make out more detail in the water’s faltering glow. There was something carved in the _back_ of the shield. An odd choice for any sculpture and one that made her unspeakably curious. The script was vaguely familiar but Cassandra couldn’t make out the words. "What's that?"

“It’s Old Saporian.” Rapunzel murmured, running her fingers over the metal with a look of absolute wonder on her face. “I never thought I would actually need to read this.”

“That’s - they only write that on old graves and stuff right? Why is something like that out here?” 

Cassandra could speak at least a little Saporian - as could almost all centaurs - but it wasn’t a written language. It was a living, breathing word meant to be spoken out loud. Cassandra couldn’t quite articulate it to herself, except that the language wasn’t intended for dead things. Only dusty old historians and crypt-keepers bothered with the written version of the language. And nobles of course, with their obsession with preserving their precious legacies.

Rapunzel huffed out a laugh. “Graves and _memorials_ , Cass. I don’t think anyone is actually buried here.” 

“So?”

“Hm?” Rapunzel was still running her fingers over the metal, her brows drawn together while her mouth moved over the words. 

“What does it say, Raps?”

“Oh - um, it says something like:

_“We met in our restless wandering,_

_driven by war drums in our dreams_

_And here where the light dwells_

_set aside weapons too heavy to bear_

_To deal tenderly with our wounds,_

_here where the sun awaits its moon.”_

Cassandra crossed her arms and huffed, more than a little disappointed. “This is an awful lot of effort for some cheesy bullshit.”

“I think it’s romantic,” Rapunzel sighed. Of course she did.

General Shampanier was practically a legend. The stories painted an uncommonly fierce and clever warrior, with the kind of charisma that moved mountains. Almost literally - centaur herds were usually small bands of family members all living together. They didn’t build armies until the General. Legends claimed that the dust kicked up from her army was enough to blot out the sun for hours after they passed. 

Sure a statue from her time was interesting, but Cass sort of hoped for something cooler than a poem and a fancy rock. “And isn’t poetry supposed to rhyme? Or at least have rhythm?”

“I’d like to see you translate a poem from Saporian into Coronan and get something that makes sense!” Rapunzel jogged in place, looking more like herself than she had the whole night. “The grammar is totally different!”

Cassandra snickered. “I’m just kidding, Raps. I didn’t even know you could read that stuff.”

Old Saporian was notoriously complex - Saporian was emphasized and defined by body language, and reducing that to text wasn’t an easy task. So Cass was genuinely impressed by the feat even if it was weird to picture bouncy, energetic Rapunzel being able to read it.

“You get to go do other things during my lessons.” Rapunzel huffed, her heavy tail still swishing with annoyance. “By the time the tutor leaves I don’t even wanna think about it anymore.”

“Will you read it if I find more?” Cassandra eyed the undergrowth. There were more pieces of the same white stone here and there. For the moment her curiosity was stronger than the pull of duty.

Rapunzel smiled. “I can do that.” 

They didn’t hurry back to Corona. Instead they stayed in that lost lagoon, exploring the fragments of a forgotten refuge. For a while they were just two kids splashing in the water and catching fireflies in the dark. For the moment that was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not a poet but if I didn't somehow include the lost lagoon I was going to DIE. So here we are! In-universe the reason that the "original" lost lagoon poems rhyme and this one doesn't is the former was translated by a professional and the latter by a twelve year old who may be a nerd but even she doesn't wanna spend all day learning Centaur Latin. 
> 
> A small note: Yes what Cap did is still abusive. Cassandra doesn't understand this, and Rapunzel is twelve. Naturally hashing that out is gonna be a little difficult.


	10. fathers and daughters

\- Rapunzel, Age 12 / Cassandra, Age 16 -

_Shortly following the events in the lost lagoon._

* * *

“I’m reluctant to chastise the Captain publicly, regardless of your… reservations. The discipline a parent imposes on a child has always been a matter of private sphere. You understand why I don’t wish to set a poor precedent?” Fredric took a sip of his tea, watching for her reaction. 

Rapunzel took a blackberry turnover from the plate in the middle of the table, and plucked a berry from the soft frosting. It gave her time to consider her response.

When Rapunzel was kidnapped the world didn’t stop spinning, and her father made a lot of mistakes in his grief and fear. All of her training, all of her life as a princess was under the shadow of that day and the years that followed. Fredric always emphasized the importance of weighing her choices instead of acting out of impulse. She did understand.

So rather than letting her temper get the best of her, she popped the berry into her mouth, then washed the rush of tart sweetness down with the tea. It wasn’t her favorite flavor - a dark, unrefined brew with little subtlety - but it was her father’s preference. 

This was him teaching rather than an active challenge against her request. His shoulders were relaxed, one back leg even flexing away from the ground the way he might if he were going to sleep. Of course, she chose to talk with him over tea in her mother’s private garden to elicit just this reaction. Fredric thought this was a training exercise. He thought this was a _game_. Rapunzel had no intention of enlightening him to how serious she was about this, lest she show her hand.

“The captain was a close friend. I know it would be difficult to see him humiliated.” It took all of Rapunzel’s self control to phrase that gently. She rubbed a hand down her father’s arm, hoping it would cover for the tension she could feel in her own voice. “I’m sure we can find a compromise, dad.”

The Captain was always kind to Rapunzel. When she was first brought to the castle he would scoop Rapunzel up when she slipped on the polished floors, or when something scared her too much to move. He would pat her head and sneak her treats from the kitchens, patiently weathering her suspicion and flightiness. 

It just made her discovery of his cruelty cut deeper, and her fury all the more potent. 

Unfortunately there was no chance of anything more than a token punishment. The Captain and Fred trained and fought together when they were young men, to the point that they were once constant companions on and off the battlefield. Fredric’s stories about him were steeped in respect and fondness.

“Do you want to continue this conversation another time, Rapunzel? The last few days have been trying for you.” Her father’s hooves shuffled against the floor in the whisper of leather shoes. It was unusual for him to shuffle in place like that. He was normally still as a mountain. 

He wasn’t wrong. She could feel it in the pain that jolted up her forelegs when she walked, though thankfully she wasn’t limping enough to draw any strange looks.

Rapunzel returned her attention to the present, and her current opponent. This was another part of her training. Like a practiced fencing teacher he merely touched at her weaknesses rather than taking advantage of them, subtly pointing out when she was too eager or fierce… or when she was being inattentive.

“I am a little tired.” She flashed him a smile, more reflexive habit than feeling. “But this is important, dad. You and mom taught me that compassion is the most important quality for a ruler. What kind of person would I be if I looked the other way when one of my -” Rapunzel faltered. What was Cassandra to her, really? “- one of our people came to harm?”

Her father wasn’t a man without ego. His gaze softened at those words, the body language of a king briefly giving away to something warmer. “You’ve grown up into a fine young lady, Rapunzel. You’ll be a good queen one day.”

Those words didn’t warm her quite as much as his hand settling on her shoulder and squeezing gently. “Thank you, dad.”

“In the meantime, I think I have a solution for your problem.”

“Oh?”

“I could take over her training myself. ...Or I should say, delegate to those who know the art of war better than I do.” He chuckled. “The captain is a man of the law at heart; he respects the discipline of combat but has no love for it. Not like your little spitfire.” 

“How would that be a solution? It doesn’t actually prevent anything.”

“You’re aware she wants to train for the royal guard,” Fredrich’s voice was smooth, persuasive, “if what vexes you is leaving her under her father’s command, this way you will be able to achieve your goals without stunting her ambitions. She’ll no longer be at his mercy for advancement, and the rest they can deal with privately.”

On its surface her father’s proposal was one of practicality. If nothing else it would make Rapunzel look marginally less like a tyrannical child which was as close to an ideal outcome as she could expect. The question was what would he gain from this transaction? And there was the additional concern of putting her only confidant within his grasp, where she couldn’t be assured of Cassandra’s safety. His priorities were different. Could she trust him with her dearest, truest friend?

And yet.

Cassandra already worked so hard. With the kind of access a real royal patronage could secure - to the best teachers, the best armor and weapons - she could achieve so much more. With that kind of training she could go as far as Ingvarr or Arendelle and find work as a retainer or bodyguard. She could go _anywhere._ That thought sent a spike of icy loneliness through Rapunzel’s heart, the mere possibility of that loss as heartrending as if it were happening before her eyes.

Rapunzel took a breath and held it. When it came to Cassandra it was hard to be rational. There was the conflict, always, between the desire to hold Cassandra close and the knowledge that she couldn’t. Rapunzel let out a slow exhale, forcing that potential future from her mind. She had a goal: secure Cassandra’s safety without harming her future.

She didn’t want Cass broken into service like an animal, and for that she was willing to pay any price. Even if she would never be thanked or forgiven for her intervention. “If you’re willing to guide Cassandra’s training personally... I’m sure she would be delighted.” 

Fredric smiled, and Rapunzel had a sinking feeling she somehow played into his hands. It was probably a mark of some fractured thing in Rapunzel that she couldn’t trust her father. Then again it wasn’t entirely in her head. Fredric’s goal was to forge a queen from the raw material that stood before him. What she wanted didn’t figure into that.

They were the same. What Fredric wanted didn’t figure into her calculations either. 

“Then you will deliver this news personally. With your apology.”

“Dad?!” Her heart dropped into her stomach.

“You have to learn to clean up your own messes, Rapunzel. That’s also part of being a queen.” His smile and eyes were mild, but his shoulders squared and his chin lifted a fraction higher. One of his back hooves thumped against the stone. He wouldn’t budge. 

“Of course, dad.”

The words tasted like ashes in her mouth, but she wouldn’t relent either.

All the love Rapunzel ever knew was the walls rising ever higher, her bonds pulling ever tighter, a thousand eyes peering closer for a crack in her composure. The slow closing of hands around her throat. Was it any wonder that her love looked like a locked door smashed from its hinges?


	11. not a conversation

\- Rapunzel, Age 12 / Cassandra, Age 16 -

* * *

“Has the King started meddling in the private affairs of his subjects, your highness?”

Cassandra quieted her steps at the sound of the Captain’s voice. The hallway was quiet and empty this time of day, which meant that she had to be careful lest her metal shoes ring out against the stone. The long stretch of hallway was little more than a stone arch with rows of unadorned wooden doors set into each side. Though the servant’s quarters were as solidly built and well-tended as the rest of the castle they didn’t merit much ornamentation. None of the curtains and tapestries that would soften the walls and keep voices from carrying. 

“When one of my father’s subjects is being mistreated it becomes our concern.” Cassandra couldn’t see Rapunzel, but by her painstakingly measured voice Cass could imagine Rapunzel’s perfect posture and the slow, irritable flick of her tail. “It’s only because of your years of service that my father sent me to speak with you and… apologize. Instead of a formal, _public_ reprimand.”

Cass traced the voices to a large arch that led to the open courtyard where they drew water from the deepest well in the castle. The water was so cold that pouring it over her head made her gasp even on a summer day, but at the moment it was foreboding that made a shiver race up her spine.

Normally the Captain would be in his office doing paperwork at this hour, with inspections of the barracks and supplies every other week. Either way he usually sent one of his soldiers with missives no matter how complicated the conversation, rather than meeting the princess personally. Though Cassandra couldn’t fathom why.

The chill that settled in at the end of her tone told Cassandra that Rapunzel’s thoughts on the matter were different than her obviously coached words.

“Mistreated? Tying up a leg is nothing more than a method to curb bad habits, and I can assure you I consulted other parents on the matter before I did. It’s discipline. Perhap you are unfamiliar with the practice.” It was a shock to hear his normally even tone dip into something terribly close to disrespect. 

Cassandra’s father always stood on protocol. Always. To the point that her closeness with the princess was something of a sore point between them, though she never really understood why he disapproved so much. Not that he ever said so plainly, but there was only so much a man’s mustache could bristle before disapproval was the only possible conclusion. 

"I came to apologize for my... poor response." Rapunzel let out a slow breath. "But I don't think I've made myself clear."

It was easy to underestimate Rapunzel. She was generous and soft and playful. Sometimes a wicked little troublemaker, but never cruel. Even among the more jaded staff who were rarely inclined to be generous it was agreed that she was - at worst - spoiled sweet. Except that in that moment the slow thump of her hoof against the ground commanded attention. When her voice dropped deceptively quiet the room turned on the axis of her voice. The opposite of the way her father's boomed when he spoke as king, yet it carried the same weight. 

So much so that Cassandra dared to peek through one of the decorative windows that lined the vaulted hallway, her skin prickling with the need to _see._ The two stood facing one another like combatants in an arena, Rapunzel nearly even with the Captain’s shoulder but not really looking much smaller with her shoulders back and chin lifted. Every inch a future queen.

"Cass is a member of my household." Cassandra couldn't even begin to imagine what expression Rapunzel was making, but whatever it was it made her father's face pale. "She is not an animal. You will not train her like one. Do you understand me?"

The Captain always seemed so strong. In Cassandra’s mind he was the shining ideal of what a person could be if they worked hard. Even if he was sometimes distant and demanding, he was her dad… and he didn’t have to be. Out of everyone in the whole world he chose Cass, and she could never repay him for that. 

Except in the face of Rapunzel’s words he lowered his head, his shoulders curling inward in a subtle but very real deviation from his usual military bearing. “I understand you, your highness.”

Rapunzel’s hoof scraped against the stone floor. “My father has a great deal of respect for you, Captain, and… so did I. However, any further correction of Cassandra will be turned over to the king.”

The Captain’s father straightened, his brows knitting together and his mouth opening - then snapping shut again when Rapunzel held up a hand. Cassandra felt a complicated warmth at the concern flooding his face.

“This was an order passed down from my father. Don’t worry. She’ll serve directly under the king.” Cassandra had known Rapunzel for what felt like forever, but she couldn’t put her finger on the tone that laced her voice. “You’ve made your reservations on my fitness very clear.”

When did he do that? How many times did they talk about her behind her back, planning out her life without her knowledge? Cassandra’s head spun.

“Your highness -” 

“I value Cassandra, Captain.” Rapunzel’s stance softened just a little. “Trust me when I say I don’t take my responsibility toward your daughter lightly.”

Her dad didn’t deserve this - somehow this was Cassandra’s failure even if she couldn’t trace back to the exact point where things started falling apart. What right did Rapunzel have to come stomping into her life? What right did she have to talk to Cassandra’s father that way? The question was did Rapunzel even need a reason? Didn’t she stake her claim right there? _A member of my household_ . _My responsibility._

Those were diplomatic ways to talk about a servant or a vassal. Cassandra had certainly heard the phrasing often enough - and that was the way it should be between them. Those were the words of a considerate master. Rejection shouldn’t burn in her hollowed-out chest like hot coals. The truth was they were too close because of Rapunzel’s unique situation... and yet all Cassandra could think of was that night in the lagoon. Of how, somehow, she let herself think that their friendship mattered. What did it all even mean if Rapunzel was going to treat Cassandra like a thing she owned?

She didn’t even register the end of the conversation, but she sure as hell saw Rapunzel lower her head briefly in respect - as if she could mean that in any more than the token sense - and turn to leave. Cassandra stepped into Rapunzel’s path at the door, and felt a little surge of vindication when the princess pulled up short. Thought her little chat with Cassandra’s father was private, did she? Cass wasn’t sure what she expected, but it wasn’t for the shock on Rapunzel’s face to give away to cool composure. 

“I guess that saves some time. You heard that?”

“Y-yeah, of course I fucking -” Cass took a deep breath, trying to get a handle on the sudden, shaking rage that hit her so hard that she could feel every ounce of blood in her body roiling. “What the hell did you do, Rapunzel? I didn’t ask for any of this.”

No matter how carefully crafted the persona she used in court, Rapunzel never performed well in the face of anger. The refined little princess of the Der Sonne line blanched at the thread of anger running through an otherwise quiet voice. Her entire body angled subtle backward from Cassandra, her back legs coiling with the instinct to run. Cassandra saw it, but in her anger she couldn’t summon pity. 

Rapunzel’s next words tumbled out of her mouth in a rush. “My father will send a messenger to you with your new evening schedule, Cassandra. Please don’t be late. He’s told me he’ll be taking a personal interest in your training from now on.”

Cassandra’s mouth worked. What could she say to that? There was no denying either the king’s personal invitation or the fact Rapunzel wasn’t going to apologize for any of this. “Okay.” 

“Good.” Rapunzel lifted her chin and waited until Cassandra stumbled to the side, and only then did she sweep away. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Cassandra.”

Somehow that imperious march didn’t make it look less like running away.

The captain emerged from the side courtyard, and didn’t seem all that surprised to see Cassandra there. She supposed that her voice hadn’t been that quiet. “Cassandra,” was all he said, more exhausted exhale than actual sound.

Cassandra rarely saw much softness in her father. It was hard to imagine anything tender or forgiving in him - he was a man of cold honor, and in that he wouldn’t bend for anyone. Except in that moment his gaze was on where the princess disappeared, and he looked so tired and sad that Cassandra would give anything to lift even a fraction of that from his shoulders. 

“I was trying to spare you this,” he muttered finally, more to himself than Cassandra. When he finally looked at Cass again he reached up and very gently ruffled her hair, the way he did when she was very small, “Her father was the same way. Royals don’t know how to love anything without ruling it. You understand, my girl?”

She did now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Important reminder: Cass is still head and shoulders deep in This Is Fine territory so her defending Cap doesn’t actually mean this is all cool. Just wanted to be clear because if anyone decides they agree with Cap here I will McDie.


	12. more

The village head lived in rooms set aside in the town hall, which was technically the original castle der Sonne. Cass never saw it up close, preferring to explore the unknown rather than poke around Old Corona. The “castle” was at best a small fort, with two towers on one side, narrow windows and heavy doors as thick as Cassandra’s hand was wide. 

As she stepped through the open door it was hard not to imagine the original inhabitants walking the halls. Who were the men and women who raised these walls? She made a mental note to search the archives for specifics. 

The door was open. So she could just walk in? That was very different from the situation at the current Corona castle, but then security was always a priority when the resident princess was an escape artist. Cassandra followed a threadbare red carpet into the long, open chamber that once would have served as the audience room for kings and queens. Now it was lined with tables and chairs like a great dining hall, the walls hung with dried fruit and vegetables and bundles of sweet-smelling herbs. The dias where the thrones surely once stood there was a massive fireplace set into one wall, with a cauldron set over the pale ashes. 

Two figures stood at the heavy table to the left of the fireplace. Cassandra caught a glimpse of a gawky human boy with a tousle of dark hair and huge blue eyes, a wooden bowl clasped in gloved hands - before he ducked his head and skittered off into one of the darkened hallways. 

Quirin was a human - though that much wasn’t unusual in Corona. The population of centaurs was outnumbered four to one, and most of them lived in the countryside surrounding Old Corona rather than in the city or even the village proper. 

He was absorbed in packing an assortment of tools and what looked like lunch into a coarse sack. Cass saw Quirin in passing many times, but it was only now that she had a chance to look at him closely. Quirin had the roughly hewn, careworn face of any number of farmers, with a strong nose and receding hairline. He wasn’t a bulky man, but there was a confidence in his stance and dark eyes that made Cass hope this wouldn’t be a total waste of time.

“So you’re the one, hm?” He finished tying the bag closed and slung it over his shoulder. “Younger than I expected.”

Cassandra didn’t bother to respond to that.

“For now your other duties have been put on hold. You’ll be working with me for a time, and we’ll see if I will train you.”

That news made the knot of anxiety in her chest loosen. Cass didn’t know if she could handle seeing Rapunzel every morning and not end up on the run from the guards for wringing her fool neck. She needed some time to sort out her feelings but she couldn’t do that if Raps was breathing down her neck, trying to fix everything when even Cass didn’t know exactly where the problem lay. 

Then that last comment hit her in full: “...If?”

More tests? _More goddamn tests?_ Cassandra’s front hoof scraped against the ground once - twice. Before she forced herself to still. That habit was why she was in this situation in the first place. 

Quirin, for his part, didn’t seem troubled by that reaction. “The king asked me to evaluate you. He trusts my judgement.”

He was silent for a long moment before Cass realized he was waiting for an answer. “Yeah, okay. Sir.”

Quirin nodded and turned with a gesture for her to follow.

Two weeks. Cass followed him around for almost two weeks doing the same kinds of chores she would have done at the castle. Chopping wood, hauling wagons, doing the rounds talking to the locals about their herds and crops. Honestly it was no hardship. Every moment she was out in the village was another she wasn’t at the castle avoiding both her father’s stony silence and Rapunzel’s fleeting shadow at the corner of her eye. 

By the start of the third week she was starting to get the hang of the job, so much so that some days she and Quirin would split up to check on different parts of the village, though she was almost always within a brisk trot of her new teacher. 

Not that she needed much help. Anybody could figure out how to sling a couple of baskets of turnips over their back. Which she was starting to think was all she would learn from this apprenticeship.

“Thank you for your help. It’s been a long time since my sons lived close enough to help with the harvest.”

“I’m just doing my job.” Privately Cass wanted to hunt down said sons and give them a kick in the pants. Old Gherkin was probably the oldest woman in the village if not the entire world. Her skin was stretched thin and transparent as onion skin over knobbly joints of her hands, her hair a shock of fine white fluff. Cass half expected her to dissolve in a puff of wind like a dandelion.

Her gnarled hands fiddled with the drawstring of the last sack full of onions, an almost girlish motion that looked out of place on a woman of her age.

“Would the two of you like to stay for dinner, dear?” She was bent so far that most of the time she addressed Cassandra’s hooves, and visibly grimaced when she forced herself upright enough to flash Cass a hopeful, sunken smile. “I could use the company.” 

It was a tempting offer. The alternatives were sitting down to a meal with her father - for the most part a silent affair these days - or avoiding him entirely to eat in the mess hall with the rest of the Troop. 

“I’ll ask Quirin.”

“He’s your teacher now, hm? I can’t imagine what he could teach you. He’s such a quiet man.”

“I talk when it’s needed.”

Cassandra nearly jumped out of her skin. How didn’t she hear him coming?

Gherkin smiled over Cassandra’s shoulder. “You’re quiet as a stump, young man. You should socialize with the rest of us more.”

Cass took her opening to speak, doing her best to slow her heart and the flick of her tail. “Old Gherkin wants us to eat dinner with her - could we pick up your kid and come back after we’re done out here?”

Quirin looked at her with that quiet regard. It was starting to drive her up a wall. What the hell was he trying to see? “That’s thoughtful of you.”

“It - it’s nothing. She’s just a little old lady, you know? Somebody should visit her sometimes.”

“I’m right here.” Gherkin pulled a face. “And I haven’t gone deaf yet.”

“I’m sorry about my student, she’s young and speaks too plainly.” Quirin lowered his head, but that did little to soothe the old woman’s ire.

She dropped the sack at Cassandra’s hooves so that she could shake her walking stick at Quirin more effectively. “Don’t try to smooth talk your way out of this. Go! Go. I’ll prepare dinner, and you both better be here before dark.” With that Gherkin hobbled off, still grumbling about their disrespect. It would have bothered Cass more if Gherkin weren’t smiling to herself.

Cass bent with difficulty to reach the dropped sack, and as she straightened winced at the weight pulling the cord tight around her hands. She gnawed at the inside of her cheek, her back hooves shuffling for purchase even as she forced herself to complete the motion and tie the sack to the baskets strapped to her back.

Quirin paused in loading his own pack, and held out an open hand. “Show me your hands.”

That tone would accept no argument, even though her first instinct was a resounding _no_. Cass pried her stiff gloves from her hands with a hiss of pain. Cassandra worked hard at the castle, but her calluses weren’t quite hardened enough even with work gloves. There were blisters layered upon blisters on her palms. In some places the skin was worn away to raw flesh beneath. 

His heavy brows drew together. She couldn’t quite read his expression. “This isn’t something you should hide. Suffering in silence isn’t a virtue.”

That sounded fake but - “Okay.”

Quirin gave her a knowing glance. 

“I asked you to come with me during my work because I've known warriors who only love their nobility. If you aren't willing to work with your own two hands, nobility and honor remain only ideas.” He took ointment and bandages out of his bag, and went to work cleaning her hurt hands. He was quiet for a moment as he tied off the bandages, his lips moving over words as though sorting through his words. Then he finally added: “I won't make you into an unthinking weapon. You are my student now, not a tool for a crown.”

“What are you saying?” Cass didn’t like the way Quirin said that, heavy with some old, old bitterness. It reminded Cass of her father’s words, which still stung with something enough like truth to make her stomach churn.

“I’m saying I will teach you.” Quirin smiled, the shadows on his face lightened if not banished entirely. “You are already more than they think you are, Cassandra. For your sake, I will make you a worthy warrior.”

Cassandra spent her entire life being tested and falling short - each time somehow not quite enough. She didn’t know what to do with this. With being _more_. Her eyes burned and she desperately swallowed down a lump in her throat, hoping and praying that she wouldn’t actually tear up over something so small. “Thank you.”

His hand settled a hand on her shoulder, and she was surprised to see his tight smile loosened by a degree. “I’m… glad to help you. You’re a good kid.”

He led her down to the road and she followed without being asked. It was almost embarrassing. She must look like a foal following its mother, or a toy duck tugged along on a string. 

“We’ll come back here to eat.” He said almost as an afterthought.

Honestly Cassandra almost forgot what sparked the conversation in the first place. “Good. She’ll be happy.”

“And you should come early tomorrow. I sent word to a friend that I would like you to meet. Adira is… an unorthodox teacher, but she has much to offer. I think it’ll do her good to have a student again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been a thousand years you guys! Between work and this chapter being a bear to write, it took me ages!


End file.
